


Curiosity vs Satisfaction

by M3zzaTh3M3z



Category: Widdershins (Webcomic)
Genre: Aromantic, Asexuality, Canon Aromantic Character, Canon Asexual Character, Friendship, Gen, Practice Kissing, canon aroace character, mild sex repulsion, wolfe is the aspec ally we deserve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 16:53:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17770616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/pseuds/M3zzaTh3M3z
Summary: In the three weeks they've been together, Wolfe still hasn't learnt anything about Mal. A surprising confession might finally give him the opportunity to change that.





	Curiosity vs Satisfaction

**Author's Note:**

> (I changed the title because I always hated it lmao  
> The full saying is 'curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back,' which kept echoing in my mind while writing I remember. - 15/9/19 )

Three weeks now, Wolfe reflected as he sat by the crackling fire.

Three weeks on the run from the Prussian military.

Three weeks hiding out in the woods, foraging for food and sleeping under the stars.

Three weeks with Mal. Curious Mal, curious about the world and curious in himself.

And three weeks of trying to figure him out.

Tonight progress was as slow as ever.

“But surely there is some food you particularly enjoy, no?” Wolfe persisted, the warmth of the flames licking his face as he leaned forward. A gentle wind stirred the branches of the trees surrounding the forest clearing, scattering leaves over them. “If you were to go to a fine restaurant and could order whatever you liked?”

“’m tellin’ ye, it’s all th’ same t’ me,” Mal said. He lay draped across a log on the other side of the fire, his head lolling back to watch Wolfe. “When would I go t’ a restaurant anyway?”

“So you have no favourite food at all?”

With one hand Mal lazily snatched a falling leaf and crumpled it in his fist. “I dunno, sandwiches? They’re alright. What ‘bout ye?”

“There are many food I enjoy. But I confess I am missing the _Schwarzsauer_ of my uncle’s home. I was fed in the army, but it is not the same as home food, no?”

“Dunno. Was always on th’ move too much fer that.”

Vague references like that Wolfe’s only clues to Mal’s background. Already he had learnt pushing would only make him clam up, and all he could do was wait for Mal to share his story himself, but it was a frustrating way to make conversation.

“An army bed was also not the same as my own, but it was better than the ground,” Wolfe continued, shivering as he remembered waking up to a spider on his arm the other morning. Somehow Mal had noticed and picked it off him before he could even cry out, sniggering that the ‘German giant’ should be afraid of a little bug. While Wolfe was grateful to have the hateful thing removed, it was not an embarrassment he wanted to endure again. “Maybe it is time to head back to civilisation, don’t you think? The woods are not the most comfortable of sleeping places in Autumn.”

Mal shrugged. “I’ve ‘ad worse.”

“But you’d prefer better, no?” Negotiations with Mal often took a curved route. You had to sidle up to him, press from every angle, there was something in him that made him fight back even when he wanted to agree, and only when every defence had been tested would he give in.

“We can’t go t’ town, the bastards will still be lookin’ fer ye.”

By ‘bastards’ Mal meant soldiers, with the kind of lazy vehemence he held for any and all authority. His teachers must have hated him, assuming he had been to school, though on reflection that didn’t seem likely. Although he would not admit it, Wolfe suspected his difficulty reading signs had less to do with his lack of German as claimed (which had improved alongside Wolfe’s English, albeit at a slower rate) and more to do with a lack of literacy altogether.

“We have not seen any soldiers for over a week,” Wolfe reminded him. “I am sure they are more interested in the rebels than us by now. And now it is almost Autumn time all the holiday-makers shall be headed home. I am thinking it should not be difficult to find somewhere to stay.”

In one rocking motion Mal threw himself to sitting position and wrinkled his brow, considering. “If ye’ve got th’ money, sure,” he said finally. “Did ye bring any?”

“There was no time to collect it, no,” Wolfe admitted. Anxiety prickled in his chest. He’d been so caught up in their escape and then the romance of adventure he hadn’t given much thought to the practical side of things.

Luckily, Mal didn’t seem too concerned. “I usually make enough on cards t’ get by meself. People need t’ be in a playin’ mood though.” He touched the messy stiches of his neck, but quickly withdrew his hand when he saw Wolfe wince in sympathy. “Ye saw what ‘appens when they’re not. Not sure I’d get enough for us both. Ye think ye could win some?”

“I am not the best at cards, I am afraid.”

“Not surprised,” Mal said with a snort. He glanced above Wolfe’s head, as he often did before speaking. Originally Wolfe had put it down to shyness, an unwillingness to make eye contact, but the theory didn’t quite fit. Another mystery to unravel. “Mebbe ye could busk?” Mal said, his eyes settling back on Wolfe’s face.

In his short time with Mal, Wolfe’s English had been expanded far beyond what he had learnt in the classroom, but he still often came up against words he did not know. “Busk? What is ‘busk’?”

“Ye play music and people give ye money,” Mal explained. “Ye could play violin.”

“Ah, _Stra_ _βennmusikant,_ ” Wolfe said, nodding. Then he stopped. “I did not tell you about my violin, I am sure of it.”

Mal’s eyes darted above Wolfe’s head again and he glanced up, but saw nothing there. When he looked back to Mal, he was making an attempt at a casual smile. “Lucky guess?”

“You have strange luck, Mal.”

“Aye. But ye can play then?”

“A little, though I am not sure anyone would be willing to –“

“They will.”

“If you believe so…” Wolfe sighed. “I have been missing my violin I admit. She is currently in the care of my uncle though, so we would have to pay him a visit.”

Sitting up straighter, Mal looked away from the fire back to the space above Wolfe’s head, then Wolfe himself. “The uncle yer worried will be pissed?”

“My only uncle. But ‘pissed’ or not, I should still like to visit, to let him know the truth of the affair. It is only fair.”

“What if ‘e turns ye in?”

“I do not think that is likely,” Wolfe replied, but he couldn’t keep the doubt from his voice. His uncle, although kind and a tad eccentric, had been the one to insist on his joining the military in the tradition of the family, and Wolfe had felt in no position to refuse. Leaving the army for a scruffy Irish vagabond wasn’t likely to make much sense to him, though Wolfe would be sure to phrase it better than that when the time came.

He decided to change track again. “However retrieving my violin is our best chance at earning ourselves money, you agree? Money you need for cigarettes, of which you have three days’ worth left.” Although the habit was one of Mal’s less appealing points, it was one of his major motivators. A cheap shot and they both knew it, but that didn’t make it any less effective.

Now it was Mal’s time to sigh and he kicked his heel into the mulch of the forest floor. “Alright, I can see ‘ow much it means t’ ye. An’ some cash would be handy if ye can get th’ violin. But if there are any bastards about yer not getting’ close, ye hear?”

 “Very well,” Wolfe said, smiling. “Your concern is touching, but I will be most careful.”

“Hmph.” Mal looked away, one arm gripping the other and Wolfe held back a chuckle at how transparent he could be. “Not worried about _ye._ They’d lock me up fer something too, jus’ ‘cause.”

“You could come as well. Either my uncle is angry with me, in which case one more person will not make a difference, or he is not and will welcome a friend of mine.”

“Friend?” The word seemed to burst out of Mal before he could stop it and his eyes flew wide, as though surprised at himself.

“That is what we are, no?” Wolfe frowned and cocked his head to the side. “Perhaps I used the wrong term? You English speakers have many words for it, I am not always sure which to use. We have saved each other’s life and hidden together for three weeks though, is that not friends?”

Mal pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it on the fire, staring at it with an unusual degree of concentration. “I – yeah, sounds ‘bout right,” he said, bringing it to his mouth. “I jus’ –“ He slipped it between his lips and inhaled deeply before he could say any more.

Amusement tugged at the corners of Wolfe’s own lips. “Mal, please tell me you have had a friend before.”

“Pfft. ‘Course I ‘ave,” Mal said, waving one hand almost airly, cigarette tucked between two fingers, burning end too close to his fingerless gloves for Wolfe’s comfort. “Loads.”

“You are a terrible liar.”

Mal scowled and took another puff. “Not like anyone else is any better.”

Another cryptic remark Wolfe could not understand nor ask for clarification of. He tried to pay them no mind, because otherwise he’d obsess for days. Every strange statement Mal dropped piqued his curiosity further, he wanted to dissect and question everything, find out all he could about this strange man who burst into his life as he’d sleepwalked down the military path, who’d grabbed his hand and whispered ‘let’s get out of here’ and dragged him into the wilderness instead.

Metaphorically, of course. Reality had included more accidental shootings, and prison breaks, and confusion.

Still, he needed to know _where_ Mal was heading in a turbulent country he barely spoke the language of, _what_ had he seen in one look at Wolfe to make him trust him with his life, _when_ was the last time anyone had been kind to him for every gesture was treated with suspicion, gratification and awe, _why_ had he invited Wolfe along anyway, _how_ had he known about the violin and _who_ was this bitter, funny, lost man with stories of places Wolfe had only read about, who would never answer any of these questions until he felt like it. If any were asked, he would leave. That was one of the few things Wolfe was sure about when it came to his new companion. And he certainly did not want him to leave.

“If he is not angry, my uncle may give us a bed for the night before we away,” Wolfe said, dragging his thoughts back to this proper topic with effort. “We shall avoid the ‘bastards’ as you call them, explain to him the situation, have a proper meal and rest for once, pick up my violin, earn some money and visit the local inn for drinking and fine company of ladies. A perfect plan, no?”

In fact it was far from perfect with the number of things that could go wrong, but Wolfe was convincing himself as much as Mal and so he forced cheer and confidence into his voice.

“Yeah, alright,” Mal said. He reached the end of his cigarette and tossed the butt to the ground, squashing it with his foot even though the dampness permeating the entire forest would surely prevent any fires. The he looked up, eyebrows knitted together. “Wait, ladies?”

“Or gentlemen of course,” Wolfe hastily corrected. “I did not mean to presume.”

“Pre-sume what?” Mal pronounced the words slowly, the first through unfamiliarity, the second with increasing suspicion.

Wolfe was beginning to think there’d been some confusion in topics. Perhaps his English was not up to scratch in this area. “Your preferred choice of companion in inns and bars.”

“Oh, I’ll play cards wi’ anyone,” Mal said, understanding flooding his features, which only confused Wolfe more because they were certainly on different pages, or potentially books now. “No point in ‘scrimination. Wimmen can vote in England ye know, an’ be bloody good at cards, so ye shouldn’t be so old fashioned.”

“Mal,” Wolfe said slowly, with enough gravity that Mal’s expression of relieved understanding evaporated before his eyes. “I must check. When you say playing cards, you mean…?”

“I know all th’ games,” Mal replied, trying to smile proudly but clearly too confused for that. “Poker, blackjack, bridge, whist, ol’ maid…” The attempt at a smile faded to suspicion as he narrowed his startlingly blue eyes. “Why? They not allowed ‘ere or summat?”

“No, they are allowed, but…” Was Mal being dense on purpose, his idea of a little joke? Or had he genuinely misunderstood Wolfe’s insinuation? “You are talking about actual card games, _ja?_ ”

“Aye, what else?”

“Not the…” Wolfe shifted on his makeshift log seat and considered how to word it. The topic could be difficult to broach without being crass in his native German. Doubly so in his incomplete English. Triply so in his incomplete English with a conversational partner obtusely refusing to understand hints and context. “Not the talking to of ladies and gentlemen, or flirtation of, or eventual love making of?”

Mal snorted. “Nah, why would I – ah.” He glanced above Wolfe’s head and the laughter drained from his face, to be replaced with a darkly closed off wall. He looked down at his lap. “That’s what ye meant. _Stupid.”_

“Pardon?”

“Not ye.” Tugging on the hem of his gloves, Mal hunched further in on himself, his skinny frame nothing but bones under an oversized coat. “Meself. Shoulda known. That’s what yer all _always_ on about. Does me ‘ead in.”

One piece of the puzzle had been solved, but the rest remained a mystery Wolfe felt ill-equipped to solve. Perhaps Mal was religious and disapproved of such pastimes, though it was strange he had not mentioned before. “I am sorry, I did not mean to offend…” he began, but Mal shook his head.

“I don’t care ‘bout that,” he said. “Ye can talk t’ ladies an’ gentlemen an’ anythin’ between all ye like, ‘s’not me point. Point is nobody ever says it straight an’ it’s too bloody _confusin’_.” His shoulders sagged, the word practically a whine of frustration as Wolfe watched, captivated and confused by this unexpected insight.

“Mal,” he said, as gently as he could without being patronizing. “There is no need to be upset over a simple misunderstanding. My English still needs work, perhaps –“

“Yer English is fine,” Mal interrupted, waving a hand. “Could be the bloody King ‘imself an’ I still –“ He paused, and drew in his arms until one was cradled in the other. “’s’not important. Don’t worry about it.”

The blunt shutdown only sharpened Wolfe’s curiosity. He was close to the bottom of this, he could sense it, the curtains into Mal’s heart had twitched and if he kept at it, he might get another glimpse.

“You have trouble telling when talks moves in that direction, is that so?”

“No! I mean, yes. I mean – a bit?” Mal glowered, daring him to push it. “‘m not a bloody idiot though. Ev’ryone else is the weird ones, always thinkin’ ‘bout kissin’ an’ all that, jus’ ‘cause I –“

“I am not thinking of that _all_ the time,” Wolfe corrected. “But I promise to make it clear if that is my topic. Or I will not at all, if it shall make you uncomfortable.”

Mal’s face melted into relief, quickly hidden behind wariness again. “Ye mean it?”

“Of course. You are my friend and it is no good if we cannot understand each other, or enjoy conversation.”

Mal nodded, then took a deep breath. “Not ‘xactly uncomfortable,” he said slowly. “Jus’ not really important fer me, so I forget it is fer other people. They don’t like that.” His scowl returned. “Dunno why. Not like ‘m ‘urting anyone by not kissin’, is it?”

“You have not kissed anyone at all?” Wolfe asked, unsure why this surprised him. He supposed if he’d thought anything at all of it, he would expect someone as well travelled as Mal to have at least some experience by now. “How old are you anyway?”

Casting his eyes around, Mal shifted on the spot. “Twenty-six,” he said decisively.

Wolfe laughed. “No you are not.”

“I might be, alright? ‘ow am I meant t’ know?” Mal huffed and looked at Wolfe expectantly. “Wha’ do ye reckon then?”

“Hm.” Like most revelations about Mal, the fact he did not know his own age only raised more questions. Sleeping rough and his recent brush with death had probably aged him, but he was stick thin and at turns naïve and deeply cynical, which made him younger again in Wolfe’s eyes. “Eighteen,” he said.

“Eh? I’ve got t’ be older than that. Twenty-one at least.”

“Nineteen.” When Mal kept frowning, Wolfe adjusted his answer. “Twenty then.”

“Aye, I could be that,” Mal admitted, grinning lazily. “Got a good ring t’ it. What’s yer point though?”

“I am a little surprised you are twenty or so without kissing someone. It is a popular pastime, is it not?”

Mal rolled his eyes. “Dunno why. Seems kind o’ pointless t’ me. Yer mouth goes on another mouth an’ then… I dunno, ye get spit or summat in it?” He scrunched up his face. “What’s th’ point o’ that?”

Memories of pretty strangers flitted through Wolfe’s mind, the way a curl of hair or laugh would capture his attention and he’d know with certainty he needed to be closer, the thrill of daring to make an attempt and the joy of drawing them in, the space between shrinking until the air crackled with anticipation of the first touch of lips. “It is fun,” he said, though the word felt hopelessly inadequate. He was not sure he could say it properly in German either. “And it feels nice. What more reason is needed?”

“Hm. Still don’t get it.”

“You do not need to understand. If you are not interested, that is fine, and nobody will be making you try, so there is no need to worry.”

“Right, yeah.” Mal glanced side-eyed at the space above Wolfe’s head, then relaxed and stared into the fire. It was dying down to mostly embers now, and Wolfe was considering suggesting they turned in, when Mal spoke up again. “What does it feel like?”

“What do you mean?”

Eye contact seemed to be a challenge for Mal, only holding it for a second or two before breaking away again. “Y’know. Kissin’.”

“I am not sure I have all the words in English,” Wolfe said. “It is warm, and soft, but also hard, and you feel in your body as well as your mouth. Is that enough? Why do you ask?”

“Jus’ summat t’ say, I dunno. Do I need reasons now t’ be sayin’ things?”

“You are curious,” Wolfe guessed, smiling. “You want to know yourself.”

 “Pfft, no.” Wolfe waited, and as expected Mal ducked his head, avoiding his eyes. “Uh, mebbe? A little bit? Not really, but, ye know –“ He shrugged, a quirk of sharp shoulders at odd angles, the glow of the fire accenting the pink of his cheeks. Not attractive – too scrawny and unwashed and broken-nosed for that, but a little endearing. “No matter anyway, ‘s’not like I got anyone t’ try wi’.”

Wolfe knew full well what he was saying, but he said it anyway. “There is always me.”

Mal cracked a grin. “Aye, ‘cause I’m really – er,” the smile dropped as he stared at Wolfe. “Yer serious.” Not a question.

“A kiss is no serious thing,” Wolfe replied. “If you are curious, it is better to satisfy that curiosity with someone trustworthy, no?”

“I – yeah, but –“

“There is no pressure. You do not interest me in that manner, no offence.”

“Aye, I can see tha’,” Mal said, his eyes drifting up again. It really was a disconcerting habit. “An’ none taken. But – er – wouldn’t ye –“ His words trailed off as he gestured helplessly and threw Wolfe an almost pleading look.

So far his companion had maintained a prickly, unconcerned air for most of their time together. Difficult topics like family, the past and inexplicably the Yorkshire town of Widdershins occasionally bought him close to anger, but more often sent him deeper into his shell. For the first time Mal’s shell had cracked, pushing him close to flustered, further confirming Wolfe’s theory that the casual, don’t-care-attitude hid much more beneath the surface. As entertaining to watch as this development was though, it wouldn’t do to make his friend uncomfortable. “It makes no difference to me if you would like to or not. If you wish, we may be sleeping now and no more talk of this again.”

Mal didn’t answer for a long moment, and when he did it was so quiet Wolfe might have thought he’d imagined it if he hadn’t seen his lips move. “Alright.”

“Pardon?”

“I said alright,” Mal snapped, clenching his fists at his sides. “Ye deaf now or summat?”

Chuckling, Wolfe made his way to Mal’s log on the other side of the fire and settled about a foot from him. Mal sat unusually straight, his shoulders tight to his body, and determinedly avoided his eyes. “Are you ready?” Wolfe asked.

“Aye,” Mal muttered. He still didn’t look round.

Wolfe cupped Mal’s face with one hand and a little piece of his heart ached at the way he flinched at the gentle contact. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed his touch-aversion, and he doubted it would be the last. “All good?”

Mal bobbed his head, looking vaguely queasy, like he didn’t trust himself to open his mouth. Wolfe waited, but he didn’t pull away. His cheek was soft under Wolfe’s rough palm, barely any stubble even though it had to have been a week since he last shaved. Perhaps twenty was an overestimate after all. That only made it more important that Wolfe got this right though. An inexperienced, curious, occasionally naïve young man could be easy prey for less savoury characters.

Besides, Wolfe was maybe a little curious himself.

 Wolfe leant in. A brief peck on the lips, enough to accustom him to the feel, maybe that would be enough he figured. A good plan, but just before they touched Mal scrambled backwards out of the hold, his face aflame.

“Oi!” Henthrew his arms up, forearms shielding his face. “Ye didn’t say ye’d be right – right there like th-that.”

“I do not see how a kiss can occur without being ‘right there,’” Wolfe replied, unable to hide his amused smile. “I am beginning to think you did not think this through very well.”

Mal scowled from behind his fingers. “’course I didn’t. I dunno anythin’ ‘bout this crap.”

“I will help you, if you wish to try again. It seems a shame to give up because you lost your nerve, don’t you think?”

“Didn’t lose me bloody nerve,” Mal said, finally lowering his arms, though his face was still pink. “Jus’ surprised, that’s all. Shouldn’t go puttin’ yer great big face by people wi’out warnin’, dunno what ye expect if yer goin’ t’ do that.”

“Would it help if I tell you what I will do?”

“Aye, mebbe.”

“Very well. One – hand on face, if this is okay?”

Mal nodded, blue eyes trained on Wolfe with studious focus. In theory, detailing exactly how you were going to seduce someone could be an evocative and exciting activity. This felt more like teaching a lesson to a pupil who only half grasped the material but couldn’t afford to fail tomorrow’s test.

“Two – faces move closer together. You may stay still or move as well, whichever is preferred.” When Mal didn’t respond, Wolfe continued. “Three – lips touch for some seconds.” Now Mal flushed again, but made a valiant effort of continuing to watch as though he hadn’t. “Four – move apart. Step five is depending on desires of both parties. Is it all clear?”

Sitting up straighter, Mal nodded again. “Got it.”

This time, he barely flinched when Wolfe took his cheek, and even leant in a little as he approached. Stray strands of his long hair flopped forward as he tilted his head the way Wolfe guided him, the distance between them closing, Wolfe could smell the tobacco on his breath, inhaling it with his own until –

“Wait!” Mal pulled back, pushing Wolfe away. He was panting slightly, his ears bright red. “Wait, I – I forgot t’ check summat.”

Wolfe lowered Mal’s hands from his chest and frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m fine. Jus’ need t’ make sure…” Mal trailed off and twisted his hands together, suddenly finding them very interesting. “Yer not goin’ t’ use yer tongue or anythin’, are ye? Jus’, I ‘eard that’s a thing an’ –“

“Not if you do not want me to,” Wolfe promised. “That is usually a later stage of relations.”

Mal’s shoulder’s sank as he breathed a not too subtle sigh of relief. “Good, ‘cause spit is bad enough wi’out yer great slimy tongue as well, an’ then there’s other people ye’ve kissed an’ all their spit, an’ –“ He grimaced and Wolfe tried not to read too much into the shudder he failed to repress. “Bleh.”

Laughter shook its way out of Wolfe before he could stop it, only worsened by Mal’s sudden indigence.

“Oi, what’s so funny?”

“Oh, Mal,” Wolfe managed once he caught his breath. “It is a good thing you do not really want a partner, if that is your way of speaking about it.”

“Jus’ sayin’ ‘ow it is,” Mal replied, his smirk halfway between proud and ashamed, unable to choose. “Ye lot let feelin’s get in th’ way o’ what it really is.”

Wolfe was not entirely sure who was meant by ‘ye lot,’ but presumably the rest of the human race. Mal flipped between insisting he was different and just the same as everyone else without ever seeming to notice the contradiction, and Wolfe didn’t want to point it out. It was hard to tell which he more wanted to be true.

“There will be no tongue and no spit,” Wolfe promised. “Are you ready to try again?”

Sucking in a breath, Mal’s eyes darted to above Wolfe’s head. “Aye, one sec,” he said. With one hand he tugged loose the scrap holding his hair back, scraped up all the strands and retied it, pulling his ponytail tight. “Uh.” He smoothed down his shirt and brushed some dirt off his trousers. “There.”

“Same again?” Once more Wolfe took Mal’s face, giving a comforting smile Mal half returned with a brief quirk of his lips. His eyes kept darting upwards, but Wolfe kept his eyes forward, not allowing them to fall closed the way they naturally wanted to as he leant in. As they drew together, Mal’s eyes snapped to Wolfe’s lips, staring, mesmerised. Wolfe felt, rather than heard, his breath hitch.

“No,” Wolfe decided. He drew back before they could make contact, leaving Mal frozen in place. “I will not do this.”

“What’s th’ matter?” Mal asked, jolting himself back to motion. His leg bounced in place, squelching the forest mulch down further. “Did I do summat wrong?”

“You don’t want to do this.”

 “’ow’d ye figure that?”

“It scares you too much.”

Mal folded his arms and turned away. “Pfft. ‘m not scared o’ some stupid kiss.”

“You stare like a rabbit at the hounds,” Wolfe said. “You do not breath right. You do not move. A kiss should be enjoyable, for curiosity or not. It is not a test of strength.” He reached out and laid an hand on Mal’s shoulder, gently, though he still startled. After tensing for a moment, Mal relaxed, but wouldn’t look round. “Mal,” Wolfe continued. “It is okay. Curiosity is not worth upsetting yourself. And I do not think any less of you.”

“Problem’s not what _ye_ think o’ me.”

“You are harsh on yourself?”

“No… Not _really._ But then summat ‘appens t’ remind me an’ it pisses me off. Don’t like not knowin’ what th’ big deal is an’ don’t like tryin’ t’ find out.” His shoulders tensed again and when he spoke again his voice was a tight whisper, on the edge of cracking. “Dunno why I can’t do it, even when it’s jus’ ye. Ye said yerself, it’s not serious or anythin’. An’ nobody else ‘as any trouble wi’ it. Can’t stop doin’ it ‘alf th’ time.”

“I misspoke. It is not a serious thing to me, because it would not change our friendship. That does not mean it cannot be a serious thing to you. You have attached great hopes of understanding to the action. That distresses you more when you do not want to follow through.”

Mal stayed quiet, motionless.

“I am sorry if I have upset you,” Wolfe said, squeezing Mal’s shoulder. He was not sure which bit was upsetting or why, or how Mal felt about any of this. Everything they did was uncharted territory but this was where the dragons were, liable to upset the little boat they’d kept themselves afloat in so far. Retreat was the only sensible option at this point, spread out and stabilise before they fell in and drowned. “Goodnight,” he said, getting to his feet.

“So what are ye sayin’?” Mal asked, grabbing Wolfe’s hand on his shoulder before it could be removed.

Wolfe looked down at Mal’s hand holding his in place, seasick with yet another sudden change. The first time Mal had voluntarily touched him. Following his gaze, Mal coloured but didn’t pull away, even when Wolfe sat back down.

“I am saying…” Wolfe tilted his head and gazed up to the stars. Compared to the cooling night air, Mal’s shoulder was warm under his hand. Inviting, but without the subtle pull that moved from friendly comfort to something else. And what was that pull anyway, that little something that made all the difference? How could it be put into words without trailing off into ‘you know,’ when Mal so clearly didn’t? And if it couldn’t be explained or induced, how could he ever? “I am saying it is a thing beyond us,” Wolfe said. “Romance and kissing are not easily understood by anyone. I do not believe a simple kiss could tell you anything, and so you should not force yourself.”

“But what if it did? If I jus’ did this one bloody thing an’ it would all make sense?” A stranger, intense wistfulness Wolfe had never heard before overtook Mal’s voice. “Sometimes I think I’ve nearly got it, an’ then summat else ‘appens and I‘m startin’ over again. Fed up wi’ never understandin’ nuthin’.”

“I shall explain a different way then. May I have your hand?”

“Eh?”

Wolfe reached for Mal’s hand and bought it to his mouth, pressing in a quick, chaste kiss, like a greeting a lady.

“Th’ ‘ell was that fer?” Mal asked, yanking his hand back. He wiped it on his leg, nose wrinkled, thankfully with more confusion than disgust.

“Did you learn anything?”

“I learnt yer a bloody weirdo sometimes.”

“Anything else?”

Mal’s face clouded over as he realised what Wolfe was driving at. “Ngh.”

“So why would a different location explain more?”

Shrugging, Mal looked away. “Might.”

“I do not know why you do not see these things the same as other people. I think maybe sometimes that is just how people are. But there are probably other things we see differently as well, that cannot be explained.”

A short bark of laughter escaped Mal and Wolfe blinked in confusion. “Is something amusing?”

“Nah, don’t worry,” Mal replied, smiling wrly at the space above Wolfe’s head. “Jus’ ye don’t know ‘ow right ye are.”

“I see,” Wolfe said. “Or rather, I do not. But that is my point. I will not see things the same as you. I will not be understanding you all of the time, or even most of it. And you the same with me. It can be frustrating, but is understanding truly needed?”

“’ow d’ye mean?”

“We can be friends without understanding everything about each other, can we not?”

Mal nodded slowly. “Aye, wi’ ye I guess it’s okay. But there’s still everyone else who gets funny about it.”

It was the resignation, rather than bitterness in Mal’s tone that tugged at Wolfe’s heartstrings. It had taken a winding, confusing road to reach this tentative accord, and he’d been Mal’s friend for three weeks. Mal’s first friend. The first to let him see this gulf in experience and viewpoint wasn’t insurmountable after all. And together, they only had to navigate that gulf once. Wolfe couldn’t imagine having to do it with every single person he met. Suddenly, the prospect of visiting a bar was exhausting.

“Some people will always be ‘funny.’ We cannot change it.”

With a sigh, Mal slumped closer towards Wolfe, their hands still linked on his shoulder. “Figures. Th’ bastards.”

“However, I am very large and reasonably strong,” Wolfe continued. “If anyone wants to be ‘funny,’ I shall not let them for very long.”

“What, yer gonna start a punch-up jus’ ‘cause o’ me?”

“If necessary, yes. Is that a problem?”

Mal looked at Wolfe. Really looked at him, not the space above his head, a delighted grin spreading across his face. He’d surprised him, Wolfe realised with a strange flare of pride. “Knew there was a reason I picked ye up.”

“I think it is I who picked you up,” Wolfe replied with a smile of his own.

“Bit o’ both,” Mal decided. “We’ll make a grand team. Yer busk, an’ I’ll double our money, an’ if anyone looks at us funny we’ll deck ‘em an’ get th’ ‘ell out o’ town. We’ll go where we want, when we want, see th’ sights, all o’ that.”

The life he described was nothing Wolfe could have imagined a mere few weeks ago. His life had always been set – school, the army, settle down with a nice girl and have a couple of kids, keep reading and dreaming of far off lands but ultimately doing the right thing. Even the untimely death of his parents (God rest their souls) had been a small bump in that relentless road, with guiding responsibilities handed over to his uncle.

A single shot had changed all that. Mal had only been grazed, but that bullet had torn apart the carefully mapped out life ahead of Wolfe. What lay ahead was uncharted, unscripted, free and full of danger. Terrifying, in theory. But Mal wasn’t scared. He was excited. And his excitement, though quiet, grabbed at Wolfe and pulled him right along.

“Ye ever left Prussia before?”

“I have not, no.”

“We’ll start wi’ that then. Should get t’ sleep soon, I reckon. Lotsa walkin’ tomorrow.” Mal yawned and stretched his arms skyward, dislodging Wolfe’s hand. A way of ending affection without ever having to acknowledge it had begun.

Wolfe politely pretended not to notice, instead storing the information alongside every other hard-won nugget about Mal in his mind. Usually he wrote any and all thoughts in his journal, but he’d been forced to leave that behind with the rest of his few possessions when he’d deserted. A new journal would be one of his first purchases once he earnt some money.

“A good idea,” Wolfe agreed, retrieving his blanket from beside the fire. Yes, he’d buy a nice new leather journal and some pencils, and fill it with sketches and notes and observations of all the new places and people he’d see. He could already picture it as he settled onto the cold forest floor. “ _Gute Nacht_ , Mal.” They’d travel Europe, all the way to Britain maybe, and he’d walk the streets of cities he’d so often imagined, Mal by his side, that tightly coiled ball of mystery and intrigue he was determined to explore.

Mal flipped onto his front on the ground, pulling his own blanket loosely over his back. “Aye, goot-nack t’ ye too.”

“ _Schlaf gut._ ” He’d see the sea, he’d see moorland, he’d see Berlin, Paris, London, Widdershins. He’d eat new food, try new drinks, meet pretty men and women alike and make friends the continent over. He’d play his violin and find out how Mal had known, he’d learn what made him tick, why he’d been in a little Prussian rebel town, what he saw when he stared at smiled at the space above his head.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. Travelling with someone, even a friend, no more guaranteed insight than a visit could reveal the heart of a foreign city, or a kiss the ineffability of love. But that was hardly the point. Yearning for the incomprehensible, pushing and pushing always for more, to learn what was behind the next corner, to learn what was behind a pair of startling blue eyes, sometimes it hurt – sometimes you went too far, it left you starving in a rebel town, it left you scared in your new friend’s hand, it left you adrift in a forest hoping against hope you’ve not cut off home forever – sometimes it hurt but that conflict, contradiction, paradox of needing to know and knowing you could never, that was where the excitement lay.

Curiosity may occasionally kill the cat, but it always has an interesting time.

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as an idea for a silly comic but I can't draw and it somehow turned into one of the most personal things I've ever written so (: I was struggling to find the right 'solution' for the story while addressing the contradictions I feel in being asexual, but ultimately couldn't find one. Wolfe's reaction of unconditional support even without understanding is probably the one I would want. This was really tricky to write (I made make further edits another time because my brain is so fried from it right now I can't tell what to do) but also really fun, especially including some of my favourite headcanons!
> 
> I hope you enjoying reading this strange fic and it would be really cool to hear what you thought, especially from other aspec fans <3
> 
> *********
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, you might want to check out my others. I have fics in the [Supernatural,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=27) [ Osomatsu,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=7048385) [ Ace Attorney, ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=1034737) [ Haikyuu,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=758208) [ Portal, ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=83491) [ Boku No Hero Academia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=3828398) and [Widdershins fandoms, ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=2511207) with more being added all the time. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Find me @buggerup-busters on tumblr!](https://buggerup-busters.tumblr.com/)


End file.
